Forget Me Not
by Rhionae
Summary: Someone from Kurama's past turns up, setting him an unexpected challenge.


Disclaimer: Yu Yu Hakusho belongs to Yoshihiro Togashi. I'm just borrowing characters for a bit. 

Maya comes from 'Two Shots', found in volume 7 of the manga. There are translated scans up on my site. http://www.geocities.com/rhionae/rreikai.html   


Forget Me Not

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He was downright gorgeous. His beautiful eyes alone with their curious sparkle would have been enough to capture any girl's glance. When you added in the handsome face and the tall, slender body - let alone the blazing red hair! - it was little wonder that just about all the girls in the cafe were staring at him. Not just staring - they were giggling and sighing so that they were starting to drive me up the wall. 

I felt like grabbing them all by their collars and shaking them until they realized that it took more than just good looks to make a good boyfriend. For all they knew he could be a serial killer looking for his next victim, or an alien looking for a human subject to study and conduct strange experiments upon... 

Maybe that was carrying things a little too far. The alien part could have explained his good looks, though. 

That _wasn't_ a good thought to have whilst drinking, I discovered. I ended up with my hands over my face, desperately trying to hide the sight of chocolate milk dripping from my nostrils while at the same time trying not to choke. 

"Are you alright?" 

As if my predicament wasn't humiliating enough... His regard started me on another coughing fit when I tried to answer him. He patted me on the back until I waved him away, the spasms subsiding as I managed to get myself under a modicum of control. It was a pity that my dignity wasn't so easy to recover. 

"Here," he said, offering me some paper napkins from the table. I thanked him, unable to meet his eyes as I dabbed at my face, then wiped up the mess I'd created. I was sure my cheeks were as red as his hair from the way they were burning. 

"I'd advise against trying to laugh and drink at the same time," he commented seriously. The flush in my cheeks grew hotter as I caught the twinkle in his eyes. He smiled slightly at my discomfit before heading out the door. 

I followed him with my eyes until I met the gaze of another girl, one who had been amongst the gigglers earlier. She was glaring at me now, jealousy written all over her face. Nor was she the only one. I was briefly surprised at the surge of satisfaction I felt at that sight; then I remembered the _kind_ of attention he'd given me. 

Amused. Condescending. _Not_ the type of attention I would normally seek out. 

I paid my bill rather hastily and swiftly left the cafe. My feet were following the path he had taken before I could stop to think about it. I wanted to see him again. Well, that would have been nothing new - what girl wouldn't want to see a gorgeous guy again? - but there was something about him that bothered me. 

'Bothered' wasn't quite the right word. He intrigued me. Not just his looks - it was more that glint in his eyes that drew me to him. More than that - it felt like I _knew_ him, remembered him from somewhere... 

That could have been possible. I might well have met him when my family lived in the area. We'd moved away several years before, and people can certainly change over time - but I had a good memory for faces. I felt certain that I would have remembered him. If I'd ever known him. 

I was walking fast; he was walking at a more leisurely pace. I soon had him in sight. I followed him as blindly as I did my intuition. I had a certain instinct for things, and my hunches often turned out to be correct. He represented a puzzle to me, and I loved unraveling the threads of mystery and fitting the pieces. Especially when they involved me. 

I saw his head turn slightly, and became wary that he might have seen me trailing him. He didn't halt, though, so I simply hung back a little further as he turned down a side street. I felt a flicker of fear pass through me inexplicably and I shuddered at the coldness of it. 

I was almost at the corner when I heard the noises - the soft thuds of impacting bodies, and the muffled cries of pain. I froze momentarily before sprinting the remaining distance to the corner in unthinking reaction. What I saw was enough to halt my mad charge, enough to set my mind ablaze with questions. The only important one at that moment was just whom I should be barracking for. 

Intuition (and hormones) voted for the redhead, with my emotions backing them up. Appearances might be deceiving, but in general I considered it safe to assume that creatures with horns, fangs, several extra ungainly appendages and ugly complexions that were seriously in need of a bath or three were _not _the good guys. Especially when one turned toward you, dagger in hand, and _grinned_. 

I was exceedingly grateful when he was strangled by a thorn-covered vine that the redhead was wielding. I showed my appreciation by swinging my bag in the face of the creature approaching the boy from the side. It wasn't a particularly good attack, but it served its purpose - distracting him long enough for the boy to finish with the first one. 

It didn't prevent the third one from landing his strike, however. I couldn't completely suppress a scream as blood gushed from the boy's side, and threw my bag at the demonic thing in a futile gesture. It was in pieces in no time - along with my favourite cardigan, damn it! - but so was the second attacker. The third decided to run for it - and given that the redhead had taken down at least two more beside those I witnessed, I couldn't really blame him. It. Whatever. 

As fascinating as the unmoving bodies were, the redhead was still bleeding. He swayed slightly, and I reached out to hold his shoulders, steadying him. 

"I'll phone for an ambulance!" I told him, but he grabbed hold of my wrist with the hand that wasn't pressed to his side before I could leave. 

"No," he refused. "I'll be fine." 

I stared at him incredulously. There seemed to be an awful lot of blood soaking his shirt. 

"Don't be ridiculous!" He wouldn't let me go, though, and his eyes flashed a plea combined with a warning. I glanced down to see the creatures' corpses slowly evaporating, leaving behind a slimy-looking mess. Right. 

I sighed, acknowledging his will. I left him leaning against a wall as I knelt down, picking up a few pieces of my tattered cardigan and bundling them into a wad. Carefully, I pressed it against his side, replacing his bloody hand. 

"You _do_ need to get that seen to," I stated the obvious, hoping he would let me take him somewhere where he wouldn't bleed to death. 

His eyes were closed as he muttered a few words: "Can't go home like this... 'Kaasan..." 

"My home is close by," I informed him. He opened his eyes, his expression worried. "No-one else will be there," I assured him, and he nodded regretful acceptance. 

We must have made a peculiar sight, but by fate or by fortune we encountered few people in the age it took to reach my home. 

Home. We hadn't lived there in years, but I had at last succeeded in winning my ongoing battle for freedom with my parents, gaining their permission to live in the home they had taken me from, years ago. They'd believed it was for the best, that removing me from the area where they had almost lost me would somehow keep me from further harm... 

They were wrong; but it seemed that trouble was easier to find here in this place. It was only my first day back and already I had encountered a familiar stranger who was subsequently attacked by some kind of demons... 

Home, sweet home as they say. 

I left him on the couch, thankful for the dustcloths that still covered most of the furniture, protecting it from the trail of blood we were leaving behind us. My mother's paranoia actually came in handy, as she had insisted I have a very complete first aid kit, as well as the knowledge to use it. I soon had him bandaged, the wound not being as bad as I had first thought - but he _had_ lost a fair amount of blood. He fell asleep shortly after I finished patching him up, leaving me to hope that he wouldn't go and die on me, not in my own home, on my first day living alone. 

My parents would have freaked out if they ever found out, although I don't know which would have disturbed them more: the stranger I had just helped into my home, or the fact that he was injured in such a way... There was no point in even mentioning demons or devils. They always hated my fascination with the fantastic. They blamed it on my disappearance. They blamed everything on that, the few short hours of my life that I couldn't adequately account for. 'Overprotective' did not even nearly describe my parents. They did have some cause. My uncle had once told me it started years before that, though. He'd said that a fortune-teller once told my mother that she would lose her only child to a demon. 

It almost came true, years ago. I just hadn't remembered what had actually happened until I crossed paths with my saviour. At least, I believed he was the one who rescued me that time. It made sense. 

I glanced down at his sleeping form, taking in the changes in appearance from the hazy figure in my memory. They were all to the better as far as I could see - and I could certainly see a lot. I had to smile as I pulled my eyes away from his nicely muscled torso. The giggling girls would have probably become as ferocious as the demons if they could have seen us at that point. 

I checked his pulse and breathing, but both were steady. That left me free to carry out several other tasks before he recovered. Given my previous record with obtaining explanations from him, I decided that I would need all the advantages I could get. I made those hours that passed while he slept _count_. By the time he awoke I was ready, sitting in a chair near the couch, an old photograph in my lap. 

Finding that photograph had been a catalyst, bringing back the memories of him that I'd somehow lost - memories of admiration, mostly. They reminded me of the gigglers. Rather pathetic, really; and just as hopeless. 

His green eyes opened slowly, wariness in them as he took in his surroundings. 

"I like the hair, Minamino-kun," I told him, causing his gaze to snap towards my direction. His eyes widened slightly before focusing on the photo I held, one of the class we had shared until I moved away. 

"Ah." 

"It suits you." 

"Thankyou." One hand brushed over his bandages. "My thanks for your aid, also. I'm sorry to have troubled you." 

I snorted as he pushed himself up, wincing a little. As if acting as though nothing extraordinary had occurred would make me forget. 

"What did they want this time?" I asked, in as careless a tone as I could achieve. His expression was bland as he gazed back at me. 

"I don't know." 

"And last time?" His face, if anything, looked blanker than before. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," he denied, much as I'd expected. I stood up, crossing over to the window, peeking out between the folds of the concealing curtains. 

"Did you even notice that I never came back to school after that day?" I asked him. I doubted that he had. I was just one more giggling girl back then. No real loss. 

"The school said you'd moved away because your father suddenly changed jobs." 

I hid a bitter smile at the note of uncertainty that had crept into his voice by the end of the sentence. 

"He changed jobs alright; but only so that we could have an excuse to move without any hint of trouble." 

"Trouble?" 

I shrugged. "I had a nightmare that night," I informed him, dropping the curtain and turning back to face him. "A nightmare that I couldn't remember - except that there were demons who wanted to consume me. It wasn't a pleasant thought. Want to tell me why I had such a nightmare, Minamino-kun?" 

He wouldn't look at me. 

"You shouldn't have remembered at all." 

I scowled at him. "I didn't remember. All I knew was that the demons were after me, waking and sleeping, and I could never get away!" I took a deep breath to calm myself once more. "Tell me why, Minamino-kun. Tell me what I can't fully remember. Tell me what you did to me!" 

This last was enough to shock him into meeting my glare - and it _was_ shock, I realized, and not the pretense I feared. My heart eased a touch as I saw that he hadn't meant to hurt me. Not deliberately. But he still hadn't explained himself - and I wasn't about to let him leave without extracting that explanation from him. 

"I only gave you a drug to forget," he confessed at last. "So that you wouldn't remember Yatsude or his minions, or anything else that would endanger you." 

That was Minamino Shuuichi for you: perfect to a fault. 

"And this Yatsude -" 

"Was the one who wanted to consume you. I'm sorry you remembered him." 

"So am I." 

Lots of arms grabbing for me, reaching for my body with hands whose touch made my skin crawl... That was what I remembered of 'Yatsude', and it was more than enough for my comfort - and at the same time not enough. It was what had fueled my investigation into the paranormal, desperate as I was to find a way to escape from that filthy touch. I was just as desperate to get away from all the psychiatrists I was forced to see. I managed to get myself under control to a better degree than they had - but that wasn't saying a lot. 

"He's dead now." 

"Good." I directed an accusatory glare at him. "You could have told me a lot sooner." 

"Sorry," he muttered, hanging his head. He looked rather pale and tired. 

"Did you kill him?" 

He nodded. "With a little help," he smiled at me. I didn't return the gesture, and it slipped from his lips. "I have something that will help with the nightmares," he informed me. I tilted my head to the side, considering. 

"Not if it's going to make me forget," I replied. He winced. 

"It won't," he promised. "But it's back at my house. I should be getting back, anyway. 'Kaasan will start to worry." 

"You sure you can walk?" I looked him over doubtfully. He laughed. 

"I heal fast," he assured me. 

I nodded, taking him at his word. I left the room long enough to pick out the biggest of my jackets. I tossed it at him as I reentered the room. He'd been examining his abused shirt, so he got the point almost immediately. It was a tight fit on him, but better than the torn and bloodied alternative. 

We took our time walking back to his house. It reminded me of our childhood walks home from school. He wasn't quite as steady on his feet as he'd professed to be, occasionally requiring a shoulder to lean on. We eventually made it, however, with Minamino-kun ushering me past his mother after a very brief reintroduction. She seemed a little taken aback at his haste to get me into his room. A little hopeful, too. I was just as glad as Minamino-kun to escape her well-meaning interrogation. 

In the dubious sanctuary of his scrupulously tidy room, he sank onto the bed, smiling ruefully. "Sorry about that, but if 'Kaasan found out..." 

I shrugged easily. Minamino-san wasn't anywhere near as bad as my own mother. 

"So..." I glanced around his room, aware I was fidgeting but unable to stop myself. 

"So." He heaved himself off the bed and sorted through the drawers of his desk until he came up with three paper sachets containing some type of herbs. He gave me brief but detailed instructions for the use of each before returning to his seat on his bed. 

"This had better not be another attempt to wipe my memory," I informed him sternly. 

He seemed rather affronted by the suggestion. 

"You wouldn't be able to make me forget, anyway." 

"How so?" His eyes were narrowed, but the rest of his face was studiously blank. I laughed. 

"While you were napping I made myself a number of reminders about you. You wouldn't be able to find them all." 

"Wouldn't I?" That glint was in his eyes again, brightening them with a mischievous light. 

"Will I be needing them?" 

"No." 

"Then I dare you to try. If you can't, then you tell me all you know." 

His lips twitched suspiciously. "That could take some time." 

I turned to leave. 

"Maya!" 

I looked back over my shoulder at him, his sparkling eyes illuminating his pale face. 

"What do I get if I win?" 

I simply laughed. He wouldn't. 

The roses in my garden were the first to go. That almost made me regret my words, but I had half-expected it. He'd always loved roses for some reason. I could remember one class excursion to the botanical gardens. The teacher had been frantically searching for him for over an hour, only to find him daydreaming amongst the roses. I'd asked him why they meant so much to him, and been struck by his odd reply. 

'Beautiful things can be dangerous.' 

The flowers that grew in place of the roses had no thorns, nor other means of hurting the unwary. Pretty and harmless. Unlike him. 

The photograph of our class disappeared from my room, where I'd hidden it in one of my drawers. Other reminders of those schooldays also vanished, from an old math quiz in which I'd beaten him for once to a 'science' notebook that actually held more doodles than class notes. 

There was a certain pattern common amongst the scribbles - apart from the theme of aliens (well, it _had_ started off as a science book) - often scrubbed over, involving a heart with two names... That one was actually embarrassing. I hoped he didn't look at it too closely. 

He probably had, though, given the thoroughness with which he'd gone through my home. He'd always been meticulous when we were young, and it looked like _that_ aspect of his personality hadn't changed much. What did surprise me was his effectiveness as a thief. Not once in the month or so following our reunion did I ever catch him at it. 

I saw him a couple more times that first week. The first time he was in a rush, accompanied by two rough-looking boys whom I later discovered were two of the local toughs. He had a third 'friend' with him, although I was even more dubious about him than the other two: I'd seen him before, on that fateful day, swinging a sword at Minamino-kun. He certainly had an odd choice of companions. 

He assured me that Hiei was indeed his friend when I ran into them both at the park later that week. Hiei was quite standoffish, though, and I was relieved when he departed soon after my arrival. For some reason he reminded me of the demons who had attacked Minamino-kun. He _had_ done so himself. Minamino-kun simply laughed at my unthinking comments. 

It was strange that I would make such a slip around him. I _should_ have been more wary around one whom I knew to be keeping secrets from me, but instead I found myself relaxing in his presence, and letting my fears take care of themselves. I wished that he could have felt the same way. That was how I had viewed our friendship back then. I had been disappointed to find out how wrong I was, but it was with resigned acceptance that I tried to start over, building our relationship anew. 

I wanted the friend I'd once had. I had precious few these days, and most of those lived some distance away. 

I should have known better than to try to turn back the tide of time. 

At least I didn't giggle. I was beginning to sigh, though, just not in happiness. 

Work, study, chase Minamino-kun and his friends... It all devolved into a regular routine, even having my house regularly burgled by my oh-so-familiar burglar. No demons, no slime monsters, not even a mugger. My mother was probably disappointed that I hadn't run home screaming in panic: everyone loves a chance to say 'I told you so'. That was most likely the only reason I stuck it out. Just to prove that I could. There wasn't any other point to it. 

Or so I thought. 

For one month he searched for my little reminders. One month before he tired of my little game. Then he ended it, returning all that he had taken. Even the roses. They were growing back in their allocated space as though they had never been touched. He left no trace of his work behind. 

Except himself. 

I started, not expecting to see him waiting for me in my room as he was. There were several photographs spread across my bed, most of which I recognized as those he had appropriated. There were some new ones, too, of us just as the old ones were. 

"When were these taken?" I asked in surprise, picking them up and examining them one by one. 

"Kuwabara took them for me," he said, and I recalled the tall boy snapping merrily away at one of the times I'd met Minamino-kun when he was out with his friends. 

"I'd thought he was just taking Yukina-chan from the way he was carrying on." 

"He managed to tear the camera away from her for a shot or two," he chuckled. 

"Hm." I looked around, seeing various 'missing' articles had been returned to their proper places. There was nothing at all out of place. "You didn't have to clean my room for me." 

He shrugged. 

"So, you're giving up already?" 

"Not quite." His emerald eyes were at the same time amused and serious. "You were wrong. I know exactly what it is that reminds you of me so constantly." 

I laughed, forcing my facial muscles to form a jovial expression. "Do you, now?" 

"But I won't take it away from you." 

He wouldn't? My heart started to beat faster, even as I braced myself for his dismissal. 

"So, what will you do?" 

He ran his hand through his hair, pulling a small twig out of its strands. Before my eyes, the twig transformed into a stem, sprouting several dainty flowers from its buds. I stared at them in amazement. Slowly, he reached out with it, brushing the cool softness of the blue petals against my lips. 

"Shuuichi?" I whispered, accepting the forget-me-nots without losing eye contact with him. 

"My friends call me Kurama." 

He smiled, and this time I felt myself responding in kind. 

Friends. And perhaps a little more.   
May '99 

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[MirrorForest - http://members.optushome.com.au/rhionae/ ][rhionae@hotmail.com]   


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